Origin Of S'mores Novels & Stories

“…Can we cook dinner ourselves?” I looked at the clock. Then back at her. “…Define ‘ourselves.’” “You supervise.” “We do everything.” Eli immediately jumped. “YES!” “I want to invent the greatest sandwich in history!” I laughed. “What exactly makes it the greatest?” “I don’t know yet.” “That sounds reassuring.” Ava had already opened the pantry. “I saw a recipe online.” “For?” “Homemade s’mores.” “You know we don’t have a campfire.” “We’ll improvise.”

SLOANE The fire started as a hesitant flicker against the black sand—then Chase stacked more driftwood and it roared to life, flames snapping high, throwing heat and gold light across the private stretch of beach. Victoria had spread an old wool blanket wide, ringed the pit with smooth stones, and set a cooler nearby: graham crackers, chocolate bars, marshmallows skewered on long metal sticks, and a bottle of cabernet for the adults. Dad was already toasting his first marshmallow, turning it slowly over the coals, grinning like this was the most natural Saturday night in the world.

That night, there was a bonfire. It was someone's idea to start one and let whoever wanted to come join in on the fun of roasting marshmallows and making s'mores. There was music playing somewhere in the distance. An old Katy Perry song was playing and I could hear people humming along to the tune. I was sat on log, waiting for Ezra and the others to return with the things needed to make s'mores. They were taking ages and my belly was beginning to rumble.

“How about we start in a few months. I promise we’ll go for regular runs. I know your mother loves taking to the trails and letting off steam like that.” Evan did a happy dance and babbled so quickly no one really understood what he said. Life was great. Then he realized he didn’t know where all this stuff had come from or how they had snuck it all into the packhouse without him seeing them. He was about to ask about that when his Mom announced that the hayride was ready. Outside, a tractor was hooked to a wagon full of straw, and every overly excited pup converged on the wagon. Evan was at the front of the wagon with Michael, and they sat across from each other. Big grins on faces as th

Layla and Arnold are staying in the RV, so Layla gets a head start on dinner, building a fire and setting about grilling burgers for everyone. After burgers, Layla surprises us with supplies to make s’mores - and she’s brought an extra ingredient in the form of maple crisped bacon. She shows us how to add it to our desserts, sandwiching the salty meat between the gooey marshmallows and chocolate. She calls it “wolf style,” and it’s one of the best things I’ve ever eaten. Even Stella gets to enjoy it, holding a piece of bacon in one fist and a squashed marshmallow in the other, chewing on both of them and getting herself magnificently messy.

“Your marshmallow--it’s light-brownish.” “Oh,” I look down at mine and she’s right--it’s cooked right. I look at Sadie’s. “Yours is alright too.” “Yeah, but I’m thinking of cooking it for a little bit longer.” I nod as I make my way to the log and open up the biscuits then the chocolate bar. I grab both of them with one hand and give them out to Sadie once she is finished with her marshmallow that is now covered in brown. “Hold them out for me.” She did as I told her. Being alone most of the time every time I camp,--excluding my guards who are just standing a few feet from me whose job is only to ‘protect’ me--I mastered how to make smores with one hand: I snap one block of chocolate and sta

She hands me a piece of each. "Here," she says. "Try using these to mask the flavor, you big baby." While I eat the s'more, she constructs her own and takes a bite, getting sticky marshmallow all over her face and her fingers. "These are so good," she says, licking her fingers. "S'mores are the ultimate camping food." There's still some marshmallow and melted chocolate at the corner of her mouth. My first thought is to reach over and wipe it off. My second is to kiss it away. Before I can get any more bright ideas, I point to her mouth and say, "You've got something there."

I came here tonight to break things off with him completely and somehow it made a one-eighty turn as it usually does when it comes to us. He hands me a wine glass and our hands touch causing my fingers to feel electrified. We sit across from one another watching the fire crackle from time to time, he reaches out from under his chair, pulling out graham crackers, marshmallows, and chocolate. “S’mores?” I ask way too excitedly for my age. He laughs, “fuck yeah baby.” He hands me the ingredients and we start to roast our marshmallows. “Hey X?” I ask looking at him as he has his head down watching his marshmallow overcook.

"I'm sure that was a scout, but when I think of what could have happened..." Mom and a few of the kitchen staff came in with hot chocolate, cookies, pastries, and the fixings for s'mores. Someone nodded and the fire roared higher. Even though I wasn't hungry the comfort food went down well. I saw Jade and another girl I didn't know grab prongs to roast some marshmallows. Leave it to Mom to make a horrible situation a little easier. Before long the group bonded together over sickly fingers and messy faces. Even Dalya joined in and was one with the group.

Erin asked as she took a seat beside Eric. "We're about to get started," I replied, gesturing toward the marshmallows. "Care to join in?" Erin's eyes sparkled mischievously. "Absolutely." Remy plopped down on the other side of Eric, his grin wide. "S'mores by the campfire? Count me in." As the marshmallows turned golden brown and the chocolate started melting between the cool crackers, the crackling fire seemed to mirror the warmth of our camaraderie. We passed around s'mores, shared laughter, and savored the simple joy of the moment.